


Be A Little Brave, If Only For Me

by Unfathomablespace



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Aziraphale is in pain but he put himself there, Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Emotionally Repressed, Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-31 17:56:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21450352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unfathomablespace/pseuds/Unfathomablespace
Summary: Aziraphale realises some things, the links (evidence) in the chain (Crowley has been/is in love with him) come together at last.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 2





	Be A Little Brave, If Only For Me

He wishes he'd been braver. That's all he can really articulate to himself, looking back on every interaction they had over the years. Aziraphale felt shell shocked, the ringing in his ears and the strange operator dial tone that was playing in his chest. The noise combined inexplicably with the distinct sensation of falling for a very long time, and being unable to acclimatise. He was ashamed. He was supposed to be the guardian of the humans, gifted with a flaming sword and all of that. The big man as Gabriel would have said, punching his shoulder, like an obnoxious stereotype from b-list American filmography come to life. Now, Crowley was brave, time and time again. It was always Crowley who could ask for things. The world was always within his reach, by virtue of his outstretched hands. And his eager willingness to ask why not? Why not, angel? He actually manage to think for himself, and could now probably be considered distinguished pioneer in the field.

If he envied anything about the demon it was his ability to just talk his way around the flimsy walls Aziraphale built around himself. Sometimes just be his presence. He could feel the excitement building deep in his stomach when he began to catch Crowley's drift on some matter. The game was in keeping his face thoughtful, and to maintain the dance around the topic. The dance was crucial. Always, strangely delighted to realise that he had simply not been looking at the problem presented in the proper way. Silly angel. The repressed joy of knowing that he could have his cake and eat it at the same time (and in the same room as the demon.)

It wasn't that Aziraphale necessarily followed the crowd or hung around with the wrong one as Crowley would say, but he was always very firmly seen as a party of one, by himself and by Heaven. He ate alone and drank alone and was quite frankly, happy to do so. He didn't need Gabriel or Michael or whomever happened to be around to keep him company. Aziraphale was always one of the lucky few in God's creation who simply didn't need others to validate himself, he had a purpose - a bookshop, an eastern gate, an apocalypse. The best quality a sentinel can have, really. 

Humanity, not just humans, he thought idly. The guardian of humanity.

He knew better than most that it was a sin to covet. To want. To need. And yet he did, and like the puritans (did they ever definitively decide whether they were his side or Crowley's? He'd have to ask) fostered a sharp love, that stabbed him when he thought too much about certain serpentine eyes staring back at him. And began to water this wound daily, the guilt and the self-loathing only deepening the pleasure of having found a sliver of absolute, encompassing and deeply engrained love that resiliently sprouted despite his every impulse and action urging himself in the opposite direction. Like a tongue seeking out a crooked tooth, or the gentle throb a cavity can create and the joy in those experiences. Or, like a smoker who could go days without so much as the thought of a cigarette until the option is removed, and the chemicals become a mistress to worship and love - in spite of all sensible thought.

Oh Lord, his hair, his eyes, his smile that always seemed to grow slightly fond when Crowley caught sight of him. Yes, it had taken literal thousands of years for Aziraphale to notice that little habit but he almost swooned now, whenever he thought of it. Imagine a smoker found out smoking was actually fantastic for their health and that popular, deeply held beliefs were in fact incorrect, and their doctor was ringing them up the middle of the night decrying the news and there were public service announcements and suddenly, this vice, this addiction, this temptation didn’t matter anymore? What then? How do you deal with an attainable goal after lifetimes of being completely unable to even bring oneself to think about it? Well- 

You go out and get him.

**Author's Note:**

> It's 6.00 am, I haven't slept and I can't believe you would accuse me of projecting MY feelings onto my fan fiction?! Unbelievable. Unreal.  
My Tumblr is redplanetproblems. Come visit.


End file.
